Overs and Innings
by Baron Munchausen
Summary: In this story, which is written like a script, Edith and Matthew get more than they bargained for at the cricket match. Written after 3.07 and before 3.08. There are spoilers for 3.03 onwards. Although there is a bit of peril in this tale, no one gets hurt. Anthony's actions may feel a bit dramatic for him, but who knows to what extremes misery can drive a man.
1. Chapter 1

**Edith (thinking):** I am so bored! Cricket is a game only for men. They love playing it; they love watching it. Why? Why do they like it? It is _so_ boring. I wonder if Anthony liked…no, I mustn't think about him. This wouldn't have been so boring if he'd been playing, but, of course, he couldn't, not now. No, I mustn't cry, not here. How long is it to tea? Nearly another hour. I think I'll go and bother the baby.

_She looks over at the marquee behind her where Cora is cradling little Sybil_.

**Edith (thinking): **Sybil would have been bored to death too. I do miss you Sybil.

_There is a smattering of applause, and Edith sees that Carson has caught Matthew out. Matthew joins her walking back to the marquee._

**Edith (aloud):** Well done! A good innings!

**Edith (thinking):** I hope that was the right thing to say.

**Matthew:** Not as good as I hoped. Robert was rather expecting more of me, I fear.

**Mary (joining them):** You will have confirmed all his worst prejudices and that will please him.

_Matthew gives her a rather hurt look._

**Edith (thinking):** Oh dear. This is the beginning of another argument. I'd better make myself scarce. Mama is so happy sitting there with her first grandchild gurgling on her lap. I better not disturb her. The only person here I feel any connection with is Tom. He and I have both lost the one person we loved. But Tom is out there batting for the Upstairs team, and I can see he feels uncomfortable. He would prefer to be playing for Downstairs or not at all. I have no one to talk to. Anthony would have…no, Edith! Stop it. Why does he pop into my head at all sorts of awkward moments? It isn't just the sad or lonely ones either. I want him here when I'm happy and want to share it. I haven't just lost my husband-to-be; I've lost my best friend. The person I could always talk to. About anything. Stop it, Edith. It's over.

_She wanders out of the marquee and stands in its shade for a few minutes to watch her father bat. Suddenly, there is a whisper behind her from the trees._

**Anthony:** Edith. Edith, here.

_Edith looks round and sees Sir Anthony Strallan hovering at the edge of the woods behind the marquee. All she can do is stare at him for what feels like forever, but in reality is only a few seconds._

**Anthony:** Edith, I must speak with you. Please?

_Edith looks round to make sure she isn't being watched then joins him behind the marquee. He is thin and drawn with a darkness around his eyes. He looks like he hasn't eaten or slept for weeks. He speaks hesitantly with pleading in his eyes._

**Edith:** Anthony?!

**Anthony:** Edith, I'm so sorry to approach you like this, but I had to talk to you. I couldn't come to Downton, and I didn't think you would actually be given any letters I wrote. I just…

**Edith:** Yes?

**Anthony:** I had to ask…

_He falls to his knees, tears in his eyes._

**Anthony:** Please. Please, forgive me. I know what I did was cruel. I know I shouldn't have done it like that, but I panicked. I wanted you to be free. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I want it so much, because I can't forgive myself. I want to know, before I die, that you forgive me.

**Edith:** Of course I forgive you. I forgave you that day. I know you only did it because you thought it was the right thing to do, but, truly, it wasn't. I wasn't throwing away my life. You were making me happy.

_She's jolted to a stop by the realisation of what he's just said._

**Edith:** What do you mean "before you die"?

**Anthony:** I can't live without you. I can't bear to live with the knowledge of what I have done to you, to us. But I can't have you. So I must ask you to forgive me for this too.

_He takes a revolver from his pocket and puts it to his head._

**Edith:** No! Anthony! Listen to me, just wait a little longer, please?! I know you believe this might solve everything for you, but do you really think it would help _me_ get on with my life if the last memory I have of the man I love is him blowing his brains out in front of me?

_She drops to her knees in front of him, pleading. Anthony doesn't move. He is crying freely now, utterly distraught._

**Edith:** I swear to you, if you do this, then I will take that gun from your hand and put it to my own head right after. And then they can bury us together. Is that what you really want?

**Anthony (whispering):** Of course not.

_Matthew has heard what he thought were voices behind the marquee. Mary and he have finished exchanging words and he's been left alone. He comes round the back of the tent to see Anthony and Edith kneeling, Anthony holding a gun to his own head. Thinking as fast as he can, he decides on the best way of diffusing this dangerous situation. He summons his most commanding voice._

**Matthew:** Major Strallan.

_Anthony looks up, shaken by the use of his military title._

**Matthew:** Give me the gun, Major. That's an order.

_Automatically, Anthony goes to hand the pistol over, slowly at first then, without thinking, passing it willingly to Matthew, who quickly unloads it and puts it in his own pocket. Edith, weeping with relief, throws her arms around Anthony. Anthony, so deep in his own misery, still wants to comfort her, and puts his left arm around her. They hear applause and realise that the game is stopping for tea._

**Matthew (placing his hand on Edith's shoulder):** Edith, we must get him away from here before Robert sees him.

_Edith nods._

**Matthew:** Could you claim to feel unwell and ask Tom to drive you back to Downton? Anthony and I will walk back to the road through the woods and meet you at the crossroads, and we'll take Anthony back to Locksley from there. Is that alright?

**Edith:** Good plan.

_Matthew senses that she doesn't want to leave Anthony alone._

**Matthew:** I'll stay with him. If anyone asks, tell them I've gone to the cloakroom.

_Edith nods again and taking a deep breath walks back to the front of the marquee._

**Matthew (to Anthony):** Come on, Major. Let's get you home.

_When Edith is in the middle of the marquee, and is sure she can be seen by everyone, she puts her arm to her forehead and staggers a little before crumpling up in a faint. Cora cries out but can't get to Edith because of the baby. Mrs Hughes reaches down to Edith as she 'comes to'._

**Mrs Hughes:** Lady Edith!

**Edith:** Oh! Oh dear. I do feel odd. Perhaps it's the sun.

**Mrs Hughes:** We should get you home.

**Edith:** Oh no, I'm sure…

**Cora:** I think that would be for the best, Edith. We'll call Jones to take you home.

**Edith:** Oh, I can't do that. He's Downstairs' best batter. Couldn't Tom take me?

**Tom:** That's fine by me, Lady Grantham, Lady Edith. **(Then to Edith under his breath)** I don't want to play bally cricket anyway!

_Cora fusses over Edith._

**Edith (to Cora):** I'll be fine, Mama. I'm sure it's just the sun.

_Tom walks Edith over to the parked cars._

**Edith:** Tom, I need to tell you something.

**Tom:** I know you're not just feeling faint, if that's what you're about to say.

**Edith:** How did you know?

**Tom:** Sybil fainted a couple of times, when she was first pregnant, and it wasn't anything like as graceful.

_No further explanation is needed. Edith puts her hand on his arm in comfort. Tom climbs in and starts the car._

**Edith:** Could you take me to the crossroads just behind that wood over there please Tom?

**Tom:** Of course. What are we going to do there?

**Edith:** Pick up Matthew and Anthony Strallan and take him home to Locksley.

_Tom stares at her in incredulity._

**Tom:** What the…what is _he_ doing here?

**Edith:** Tom, don't be like that. He came here to see me and…and to ask my forgiveness.

**Tom:** Too right, he should!

**Edith:** And now we've got to get him home, and not let Papa see him. Please be gentle with him, Tom. He's in a terrible state. Well, you'll see.

**Tom:** Alright. But only because you asked me.

_Matthew and Anthony have been walking for about five minutes. Anthony has gradually managed to compose himself, although he still feels shaky, fragile, and immensely ashamed of his actions._

**Matthew (trying to sound casual):** You don't happen to have a penknife on you, do you, Anthony?

**Anthony:** No, sorry. I don't carry them now. Can't open them with one hand, you know?

**Matthew:** Ah.

**Anthony:** If you are trying to make sure I'm not going to open my wrists, you can rest assured that I don't have any other weapons on me, Matthew.

**Matthew:** I'm that obvious?

**Anthony:** There wasn't any other way of asking the question, was there? Anyway, thank you for your concern. You still have my service revolver.

**Matthew:** Yes, but I'm not going to give it you back, not yet. You realise that if you'd…if you'd done it, that would have given Edith nightmares for the rest of her life, don't you?

**Anthony:** Oh God. Yes, of course I realise that _now_. But…the pain, Matthew.

_Anthony begins to weep again. Matthew regrets his reprimand._

**Anthony:** I can't possibly tie her to me as I am. But I can't live without her, I really can't. I've tried for the last few months since…I thought the pain would subside, get less with time. But it hasn't; it's just got worse and worse.

**Matthew:** When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?

**Anthony:** I can't remember. Before the weddi…

_He can't say the word._

**Anthony:** ….before that day, anyway.

**Matthew:** And your wound?

**Anthony:** However did you know? The pain is unbearable sometimes. It has got worse since…

**Matthew:** When I came back from France in a wheelchair, and didn't think I would ever walk again, I felt desperate, like you, sometimes…that I didn't deserve either Mary or Lavinia. It just shatters you, doesn't it? But I was lucky. I recovered.

**Anthony (realising something):** You were a Lieutenant, weren't you?

**Matthew:** By the end I was a Captain.

**Anthony (not entirely seriously):** I still outrank you. And you gave me an order!

**Matthew (also not _too_ seriously):** Bloody good thing I did!

**Anthony (more serious again):** You still get nightmares, Matthew?

**Matthew:** God, yes. You?

**Anthony:** Almost every night.

**Matthew:** Only you and me, Anthony…out of all of them, everyone at Downton…we are the only two who know what hell it was over there…and still is, in our heads. We'll never get over it, you know. We'll merely learn to live with it, eventually.

**Anthony:** You're right, of course. Having Mary helps, I would imagine.

**Matthew:** Yes. _Yes_ it does. You have no idea. And if Mary doesn't mind, and she can be selfish I can tell you, I'm sure Edith would certainly not have minded, because she's much more selfless. You wouldn't have been condemning her in any way.

**Anthony:** Matthew, I'm nearly twice her age, with one working arm, and a head full of demons! Look at me! How could I have done that to her? I should have stopped it before…before we…I fell in love.

**Matthew:** We can't choose who we fall in love with. And once we have, we accept them as they are. End of discussion. And as for not having much time, well, I'm sure both you and Tom Branson know only too well that that is in the lap of the gods. You're a fit chap; you might have another twenty five or thirty happy, active years in you yet. I don't know how long you had with your first wife, Anthony, but Tom and Sybil had less than two years.

_Anthony stares at him._

**Anthony:** I wanted to write to Tom after I heard about Sybil, but…well, I thought it best if I didn't.

_He lapses into silence._

**Matthew:** I'm not going to let you be alone, Anthony, at least for a few days. That's not a suggestion: I'm not going to argue it with you. You _must_ have someone with you; me, Clarkson, one of your friends…

**Anthony:** I have no friends.

**Matthew:** None? I don't believe…

**Anthony:** After I jilted Edith, my few acquaintances didn't want to have anything to do with me. I don't blame them. I deserved it. And anyway, as Mary said, I'm dull as ditchwater. Never have been one for society, really. Couldn't get the hang of it.

**Matthew (gently):** Edith never found you dull. She came alive when you were with her.

_Matthew sees tears in Anthony's eyes again._

**Matthew:** Come on, old chap, they'll be waiting for us.

_They get to the end of the footpath through the woods and see that Tom and Edith are parked up ahead. Tom sees Anthony and Matthew walking towards them._

**Tom (to Edith):** Good grief! He looks like a ghost.

_Tom realises Edith is crying. He puts his arm around her shoulder._

**Tom (whispering to Edith):** What's going on? Really?

**Edith (responding to Tom in a whisper):** He…he tried to kill himself back there. Matthew talked him out of it. I feared…I thought he might try again and wouldn't get here.

**Tom:** Bloody hell! Sorry Edith.

_Matthew and Anthony reach the car. Matthew climbs in followed sheepishly by Anthony._

**Matthew:** Thank you Tom. I'm sorry we've ruined your innings.

**Tom:** Bally stupid English game! You should try a good game of Hurling. Now _there's_ a game! People actually get hurt playing that!

_Matthew and Edith laugh glad to break the tension, and even Anthony smiles._

**Anthony:** Thank you for driving us…me, Tom. I am sorry to have spoiled the afternoon for you all.

_There's a muddle of polite refusals._

**Anthony:** You must let me offer you all tea when we get to Locksley, to make up for missing tea at the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

_Edith, Anthony, Matthew, and Tom arrive at the front door of Locksley, which is opened by Oakley, Anthony's butler._

**Anthony:** Oakley, could we have tea in the Library as soon as possible, please?

**Oakley:** Very good, Sir.

**Anthony:** And could you show Lady Edith to one of the cloakrooms? Thank you.

**Oakley:** Yes Sir. This way my Lady.

_Edith looks at Anthony._

**Edith (thinking):** How did he know I wanted to wash my face after crying so? Because even though he's crucifying himself, he's still a gentleman. It's one of the many things I love about him: he's always thinking about other people and _their_ needs. So much so, that he forgets about his own. There he is, putting on a brave face and trying to be civilised, when an hour ago he was… No matter what, in company he buries his feelings. No wonder none of us saw how much pain he was in. Not even me, and I really, _really_ should have. Oh Anthony, I'm so sorry.

_Anthony leads Matthew and Tom into his library._

**Anthony:** Tom, I hope you won't be offended, and I know it means nothing that I...but I just wanted to say how much I felt for you. I know, a little, what it's like, although everyone is different, of course, and I lost both my child and my wife. At least you still have little Sybil, and that must be some comfort, I hope.

**Tom:** Yes, it is. Thank you Sir Anthony.

**Anthony:** Please, Tom, just Anthony. After today, you can call me anything you please, no matter how rude.

**Matthew (changing the subject):** Tom's just accepted the position of Estate Manager at Downton.

**Anthony:** Oh, good show! We need men of good sense to run the place, these days more than ever.

**Matthew (thinking):** What does he mean, he's no good at society? He's awkward, yes, but he talks as easily to Tom as to the Earl, has no prejudices whatsoever and…oh, I see! He says what he thinks, treats everyone alike with the same respect, and speaks the truth. I can see how 'society' wouldn't like that. Certainly Robert and Violet don't. I suppose they think he and I are so middle-class because we talk about things that really matter. And I've only had eight years of it. He's had a lifetime. I really must get Clarkson round. He'll know what to do for the best.

**Matthew (aloud):** Anthony, may I use your telephone?

**Anthony:** Yes, of course. Though I fear you won't actually get Clarkson at this time of day. Surgery hours, you know?

_Matthew sighs, exasperated that Anthony seems to be able to second guess his every move._

**Anthony:** Sorry. I didn't mean to…

**Matthew:** …be too clever by half? That's also too, too middle-class isn't it?

**Anthony (lost by Matthew's half-speaking his thoughts):** I'm sorry? I'm not with you.

**Matthew:** Please don't worry. I'll leave a message for him though, if that's alright?

**Anthony:** Of course.

_Matthew goes out to the hall._

**Anthony:** Will you live at the Abbey?

**Tom:** No, I don't think so. I make them uneasy; they make _me_ uneasy. Not Matthew but…well, you know. Lady Grantham…Cora…would like it…but it worries her that Lord Grantham's not entirely happy.

**Anthony:** He wasn't happy about me either, if that's any consolation, and I'm supposed to be a baronet. But of course he had other reasons to disapprove of me.

**Tom:** _Their_ reasons. The reasons of _their_ class. Not _real_ reasons.

**Anthony:** I am one of their class, Tom.

**Tom:** No, you're not. You're better than them.

_Anthony is looking at Tom with gratitude, when Oakley enters with the tea, quickly followed by Edith._

**Edith:** Tom, when do you think the rest of them will get back to Downton? We really must be there when they return or my story won't wash.

**Tom:** I think we'll be alright for another half hour. But then we ought to go, you're right. If anyone asks, we'll say that you wanted some air so we stopped on the way home.

_Anthony hasn't made eye contact with Edith since they left the cricket ground._

**Anthony (thinking):** I can feel her looking at me; her beautiful dark brown eyes…pained with such sorrow, that _I_ put there. Dear God, forgive me! Is there no way out of this?

**Anthony (aloud):** Please do help yourselves to tea, don't stand on ceremony. Mrs Rich, my cook, will be so pleased to have an appreciative audience. I'm afraid she's wasted on me.

_Matthew comes back from telephoning Dr Clarkson._

**Matthew:** Clarkson says he'll be up within the hour, and I've said I'll stay until he gets here.

_Anthony begins objecting._

**Matthew:** I told you; no argument. And I did get to speak to Clarkson…between consultations. So there!

_Tom laughs. Anthony, though, is close to tears again._

**Anthony (his voice broken):** It really is most kind of you all. I don't deserve it.

**Edith:** Look at me, Anthony.

_He does so with difficulty._

**Edith (hoping that this will comfort rather than challenge him):** Did you leave me at the altar because you wanted to humiliate me or my family?

**Anthony:** I hope to God you don't think that.

**Edith:** Why did you do it then? Go on, say it.

**Anthony:** Because…I wanted you to be free.

**Edith:** And…?

**Anthony (almost whispering now):** Because I love you.

**Edith (more gently, tearful herself):** Now, how does that…the most honourable of reasons…mean you don't deserve some friendship when you need it? If anyone has to apologise it should be me. I should have known you were in pain before the wedding. I should have asked you if you wanted to wait. I had lots of people looking after me after that day. I should have made sure you did too. Even if it was just Travis bothering you about your eternal soul.

**Anthony:** Actually Travis did try that, and I couldn't face him. He was so insistent, I'm ashamed to say that I claimed to be turning Unitarian, just to get rid of him, poor man.

_Matthew and Tom have to stifle a giggle despite themselves. Edith takes Anthony's good hand in both of hers._

**Edith:** Now, confidence for confidence; I want to make sure you have friendship, and are looked after…_I_ want to look after you, because _I_ love _you_.

_Anthony stares into her eyes finding peace for the first time in months. Edith gazes into his blue eyes in silence, losing herself. Matthew and Tom exchange a look and leave the room._

**Anthony:** You can't really love me, not after all I've put you…us through, can you?

**Edith:** Yes. I can, and I do. I think I've loved you ever since you asked me to that concert, all those years ago.

**Anthony:** I've loved you since you came to my rescue and asked to be taken for a drive when Mary turned me down.

_There's a short silence as they think about their feelings so long ago._

**Edith:** How did we get through to now without having this conversation?

**Anthony:** Because of your father…

**Edith:** And your confidence…or lack of it.

**Anthony:** And the war…

**Edith:** You've never told me anything of that. And I was afraid to ask.

**Anthony:** Perhaps that's why it is resurfacing now with a vengeance: because I tried to bury it and not talk about it.

**Edith (very quietly):** You can tell me about it now, or later, or not at all. Whatever you like.

_Anthony begins to weep again gently._

**Anthony:** Oh Edith!

_She puts her arms around his shoulders and lets him cry. A little later, Oakley comes in to announce Dr Clarkson._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter contains part of my first story "An Unselfconscious Hero". This is deliberate – poor Anthony has been having these nightmares for a long time. _But they are only nightmares._ In the last episode of series three (canon), the cricket match turned out to be House vs Village. I began this story before the episode aired and so in my story the match is Upstairs vs Downstairs. Sorry about that. That's the only spoiler here (and not a dreadful one, I hope). All medical errors are mine.**

* * *

_Robert had been so elated that the Upstairs team had won the cricket match that he never noticed that three of the four members of the next generation of Crawleys were not there to share it._

_But Mary had._

_She and Matthew are readying for bed in an all too characteristic tense silence._

**Mary:** Where did you go this afternoon?

**Matthew:** For a walk.

**Mary:** You didn't come back.

**Matthew:** Can you blame me, after what you said to me?

**Mary:** I just said that Papa…

**Matthew:** Yes, and you know that I'm a bit sensitive about what Robert thinks about me.

**Mary:** It was just a game of cricket.

**Matthew:** Not to your father, it wasn't.

**Mary:** Where did you go?

**Matthew:** I met Tom taking Edith home. Apparently she fainted…too much sun I expect. I hitched a lift home with them.

**Matthew (thinking):** Well, all of that is true.

**Mary:** So like Edith to want to be the centre of attention, but try to get it in such a ridiculously girlish way. I'm surprised she didn't volunteer to play cricket with the boys.

**Matthew:** You really don't know her at all, do you?

_Mary looks at him annoyed._

**Mary:** And you do, I suppose?

**Matthew:** Better than you. You might consider that she has grown up, just as you have, before you accuse her like that again. And no, I don't think she wanted attention at all. I think she wanted to get away from the cricket, and not just for herself. Has it occurred to you that Tom, a proud Irishman, really didn't want to be playing the national game of his countrymen's oppressors?

_Mary is stunned into silence by his words._

**Matthew (settling down to sleep):** Goodnight, Mary.

* * *

_Anthony is dreaming._

Major Sir Anthony Strallan's hands were tied behind his back, and he was offered – and refused – a blindfold. He tried to stand straight and hold his chin high, to look them in the eye. He wanted to die like a gentleman.

The Captain called out "Ready…"

_Oh, Edith! _

"Take aim…"

_How I loved you! My darling, sweet Edith!_

He closed his eyes so that his last vision on this earth should be of her.

"Fire!"

The eleven bullets from the twelve man firing squad blew ragged holes in the khaki of his officer's uniform. He staggered backwards from the impact. The pain was beyond belief and his legs gave way. He fell to his knees but somehow, with a superhuman effort, he managed to stay upright, coughing on the blood rising in his throat.

_I am not a coward. I will die bravely._

With satisfaction he realised he was almost calm as he presented his body towards the second volley that must surely finish him.

He opened his eyes but instead of the squad reloading he saw the Presiding Officer approach him readying a sidearm. He looked up to see…Edith! His beautiful Edith, with a look on her face he'd never seen before, never guessed she would be capable of wearing, a look of dark and terrible vengeance. She looked like Nemesis.

"You left me!" Her voice, unnatural, accusing, dripping with hate and contempt, sent more terror through him than the trenches, or a firing squad, or anything else on earth ever could.

He tried to say "I'm so, so sorry. Forgive me!" but before he could get the words out she placed the gun to his forehead between his blue eyes so full of remorse and grief. He was grateful to her for ending this agony. With a pitiless coldness, she pulled the trigger and delivered the coup de grâce.

* * *

_Clarkson is woken by Anthony's screams for at least the third time that night._

**Clarkson (thinking):** O God, not again.

_He rouses himself wearily, looks at his watch – half past four – and walks over to the bed. He shakes Anthony by the shoulder, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't wake him. He opens Anthony's eyes one by one and shines a torch into them. The pupils react, Anthony does not. He is fine, but drugged._

**Clarkson (thinking):** Now what? After the last nightmare, I gave him as much laudanum as I dared, but he doesn't react the way he should. It should have stopped the dreams and let him sleep, but all it's done is keep him under, imprisoned in whatever hell he's suffering in there. **(With shame and bitterness):** I shouldn't have given it to him; but how was I to know? What he's going through is beyond my experience and skill. Alright, I treated lots of veterans during the war and what I saw, even at second hand, the destruction of men's minds and bodies, gave me sleepless nights. How these men cope with what they went through, I cannot begin to fathom. And most of the time, certainly whenever I've seen him, Strallan copes remarkably well. Or does he? Does he just mask it? I feel so helpless. There's nothing I can do until the laudanum wears off and he wakes naturally. In the morning I will contact the War Office for advice…and I'll request a copy of his service record. He's never told me how he came to be wounded. Perhaps that knowledge might help me treat him better. God help him. God help me help him. God help me.

* * *

_Edith had difficulty getting to sleep, and has woken early. Her dreams were illogical and disturbing, containing fleeting visions of Anthony in the church at Downton, in morning dress, but shockingly kneeling before her holding the gun to his head, yet, thank God, not actually firing it._

**Edith (thinking):** Did I really want to marry him? Or did I just want to be married? I'm so very afraid it was a bit of both, at least beforehand. I so wanted all the fuss of a fairytale wedding. I wanted the beautiful dress; I wanted to wear the Grantham Tiara, and to walk up the nave of Downton Church on my proud father's arm. Was he proud? Really? Not as proud as he was with Mary, that was obvious. He was merely…resigned. I wanted to have my handsome fiancé waiting at the altar for me. And Anthony was _so _handsome that day. He was charming and caring and he gave it all up in the only way I had left open to him. I organised the whole wedding within a month, not realising I was rushing Anthony into something he really didn't think was fair, forcing him into a corner. Metaphorically, _I_ was holding a gun to his head, wasn't I? Marry me, or else. I did this to him. All that pain afterwards…I deserved it. But he didn't. I remember how he looked at me as he said goodbye. He knew what pain he was causing me, and he hated himself for it. He knew the pain he was causing himself, and all the other consequences of his actions, his friends abandoning him, not being able to show his face in society again, virtually a prisoner in Locksley for the rest of his life, and he didn't care. Knowing all of that_ he still did what he thought was right_. He shouldn't have to ask forgiveness of me. He should be blaming me; I should be begging his forgiveness. And if I have to dedicate the rest of my life to him to earn it, I would love to do it; I would love to have the chance. Because I know now; even if, beforehand, I just wanted to have a wedding, rather than really wanting to marry _him_, even if I didn't truly love him before that day…as God is my witness, _I do now_.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read and especially those who felt moved to review. I'm very grateful for your support, and I hope that I can repay you with some touching entertainment.**_

_**I promise that the worst of the descriptions of the horrors of war are over, at least for now, although at some point Clarkson, Edith, and we, are going to have to face Anthony's demons with him.**_

_**But I think we all deserve a bit more fluffiness for now, don't you?**_

_**So, are you sitting comfortably?…then I'll begin…**_

* * *

_It is half past six o'clock in the morning. Although the kitchens are busy, and the housemaids are beginning their duties, the family are all still abed. All except for Edith._

**Edith (thinking):** If I can just get out of the house without anyone seeing me. It used to take me about an hour to walk to Locksley, so I'll get there about the right time for breakfast. That is, if Anthony actually let's his staff prepare breakfast for him. That's a point – I wonder when he'll be awake? Clarkson was going to stay with him overnight, but when might he leave? And who will take over from him, I wonder? Clarkson seemed to think that Oakley wouldn't really have the right effect – Anthony could just order him to leave him alone if he got desperate, and Oakley wouldn't feel comfortable refusing his master's orders. We can't put poor old Oakley in that position. I'm sure Clarkson will have worked something out. Just slip this lock, and then close the door again quietly, and…there! I've escaped. No one is going to go looking for me and anyway, both Tom and Matthew will guess where I've gone and cover for me, I'm sure. I do like mornings like this; a bit chilly, misty, and quiet, but with the promise of another wonderfully sunny day. So did Anthony; it was his favourite time for a drive. Oh Anthony…my darling Anthony…

_She walks to Locksley through the early misty light, gathering into a basket brought for the purpose some roses and sweet peas from the gardens at Downton, and wild flowers from the lanes and fields on her way. The basket also contains some toffee, and one of Mrs Patmore's wonderful treacle tarts that Edith requested the night before. Just before eight o'clock she tries the front door at Locksley but it is still locked. She knocks gently fearing to rouse the entire household, but still wanting admittance. After a few minutes Oakley appears and let's her in._

**Edith:** Good morning Oakley.

**Oakley (thinking):** Lady Edith, you're an early bird. I'm glad you've come. I'm glad Sir Anthony finally spoke to you; something he should have done months ago rather than tying himself up in knots. Perhaps now things can be settled and we'll all get some peace.

**Oakley (aloud): **Good morning my Lady. Doctor Clarkson is still with Sir Anthony, but may I offer you some breakfast?

**Edith:** I was hoping you'd say that, thank you. Tell me, does Sir Anthony usually use the Library as his main room, like he used to?

**Oakley:** Yes, my Lady.

**Edith:** Would you mind if I put some flowers in there?

**Oakley:** Let me, my lady.

**Edith:** Oh, oh yes, thank you. I'd like to keep a few of the best smelling sweet peas and roses for Sir Anthony's bedchamber. Do you think that's a good idea?

**Oakley:** A very thoughtful gesture.

_After half an hour, Clarkson rings for Oakley, but Edith insists on going up with him._

**Clarkson (turning to the door but before he sees Edith):** Oakley, he's had a dreadful night, and…oh.

**Edith:** Please, Doctor Clarkson, I hoped I might be of some assistance?

**Clarkson:** Well, actually my Lady, I think you might well get us out of a hole. There's not enough of us really to keep an eye on him. I should be able to organise more help later on today, but it would be very helpful if you could stay here with him while I go home to change, sort out my other business, and, to be honest, get some rest. Would you be willing…?

**Edith:** Of course, Doctor. You were saying he'd had a bad night.

**Clarkson:** Yes. **(Thinking):** Should I tell her this? If she's going to help watch over him, I think she should know. I think she can take it. She was pretty good with the veterans at Downton. **(Aloud):** He had at least four episodes. After the third I gave him a dose of laudanum to help ease his mind but, well, all it seems to have done is keep him unconscious and make the nightmares even more uncontrolled, at least judging by what I could see. But I want someone with him when he wakes.

**Oakley:** Only four nightmares. That's not bad, Doctor, for him. It's usually worse.

_Oakley's words cause an uncomfortable silence. Clarkson reflects that he has probably been too dismissive of Oakley who has, no doubt coped alone for the last few months. He is about to ask about this when they hear a moan from the bed._

**Anthony: **Oh…no…ugh…Edith.

_At the sound of her name, Edith rushes over to the bed and takes Anthony's hand. He opens his eyes, looks up at her, stiffens convulsively, and cries._

**Anthony:** No, no, no, no!

**Clarkson:** Sir Anthony! Calm yourself. You are alright, you're awake. Sir Anthony!

_Edith can't help it. She tries to keep her tears back, but Anthony had seemed almost terrified of her. She puts his hand back on the bed and let's Clarkson take over, backing away. Oakley touches her elbow and indicates the door._

**Oakley:** Just for a moment, my Lady. Until he's more composed. I think it would help.

**Edith:** Yes, you're right. Thank you, Oakley.

_Edith follows Oakley back to the Library and they begin to arrange the flowers that she brought. She is grateful to Anthony's butler for the distraction and for the companionable silence, no small talk needed. After a while, Clarkson rings and Oakley goes up alone. Edith looks around at the Library._

**Edith (thinking):** I've never been here by myself before. This room is so like him: comfortable, interesting, not caring for fashion. I know that he reads all these books, uses them, loves them. They aren't here just for decoration. What an eclectic collection it is. He has all sorts of interests: reference works, lots of them, biography, history, novels, drama, poetry. I've never been up this end of the bookshelves before. These books seem to be gathered together by their age, rather than their subject. Good heavens, an illuminated psaltery, fourteenth or fifteenth century I would say. That must be worth a fortune. There's a small wooden box; dare I look inside? The lid is loose, so it wouldn't be prying, would it? _She looks inside._ The books in here are all the same; how odd. _Picking one out, she sees there is no title on the front cover. She opens it and reads:_

**Poems, 1912—1919  
Sir Anthony Strallan, Bt.**

**Edith:** Oh.

_She takes the slim volume to the nearest chair, his chair, the one he habitually sits in to read, and begins reading._

Frost, silver on hopeless leaves, angels' currency, dropped in flight  
Last night, while I was with you…

**Edith (thinking):** Oh, Anthony, these are beautiful, delicate, so heartfelt, so heartbreaking. _She reads on_. These are from Spring 1914, when we were together. They are stunning, so full of hope, and…love. Dear God, I wonder if…

_The door to the Library opens suddenly and Anthony, shaved, dressed, and totally presentable, enters followed by Clarkson and Oakley. Edith jumps up, a little too quickly, and drops the book on the chair behind her hoping he hasn't seen what she was reading._

**Anthony:** Lady Edith, I want to apologise…

**Edith:** There's no need, really…

**Anthony:** Please, I need to tell you. I had a nightmare, which involved you. When I woke I wasn't sure that you were real. I am so sorry I reacted the way I did to seeing you. I am very grateful to you for your help, for your concern, and for being here.

**Edith (quietly):** When you need me, I wouldn't be anywhere else.

**Clarkson:** Lady Edith, I have told Sir Anthony that I will return this evening after dinner. I cannot expect you to keep Sir Anthony company for all that time. Would Matthew Crawley be willing to relieve you at some point do you think?

**Edith:** I have a better idea. Why don't Mr Oakley and I take it in turns, if necessary? It seems to me that he is a lot more capable of keeping Sir Anthony on the straight and narrow than we've been giving him credit for.

**Clarkson (not sure):** Well…

**Oakley (pleased someone's noticed):** Thank you, my lady. I'd be very happy to assist.

**Clarkson (pointedly):** And where were you yesterday afternoon Oakley?

**Anthony:** That's not fair, Clarkson.

**Oakley:** It was my afternoon off, Doctor. And may I say that, although I know Sir Anthony doesn't mean to, I am kept awake like you were last night more often than not, and this has been the case for several months. Yesterday I was visiting my aged mother. I had asked Parr, the footman, to keep an eye on Sir Anthony, but Parr's young and, of course, I didn't tell him why I thought Sir Anthony needed watching. It wasn't his fault either. Now that we've all been more open about Sir Anthony's needs _at present_, I'm sure such a lapse will not occur again.

**Edith:** I agree with Mr Oakley's eloquence.

**Anthony:** As do I. He can be quite fierce when he wants to be.

_A slight smile and some affection pass between master and butler, silently._

**Clarkson (to Anthony):** Sir Anthony, will you promise me that you will telephone me if you feel the need? I won't ask more than that.

**Anthony:** I do promise you, but I feel a lot better today, despite your blasted laudanum.

_Only mildly satisfied, Clarkson leaves._


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: More fluff...now even fluffier...enjoy.**_

* * *

_Anthony goes to have some breakfast, but can't manage much because he feels queasy. They return to the Library._

**Edith:** If Clarkson gave you laudanum I'm not surprised you feel a bit green.

**Anthony:** And yet, I've read people take it for fun. Not my idea of fun I can tell you.

**Edith:** Is that what gave you your nightmare, do you think?

**Anthony:** I'm sure it didn't help.

**Edith:** What was it about? Would it help to talk about it?

**Anthony:** I'm not sure it would help. It's one I have often, and it is rather horrid.

**Edith (she senses that he wants the subject changed):** What would you like to do this morning? It's a lovely day. Would you like to go for a walk, or a drive?

**Anthony:** What I really ought to do is take a look at some estate business. I have been putting it off for ages, but after that a trip out would be lovely.

_Anthony sees the flowers._

**Anthony:** Flowers! Did you bring these? That's very thoughtful of you.

**Edith:** Yes, I hope you don't mind; something bright and happy and smelling sweet.

**Anthony:** Just like you.

**Edith (blushing):** There's some for your bedchamber too.

**Anthony (thinking):** Don't even think it, old man.

_He gets away from his treacherous thoughts comparing flowers in his bedroom and Edith by going over to his chair to collect the papers he needs to read. His eyes fall on the book of poems on the seat._

**Anthony:** Ah, I see you found these.

**Edith:** I'm sorry, I found it on the bookshelves while I was…

**Anthony:** In a box on the furthest bookshelf.

**Edith:** Sorry, sorry.

**Anthony:** We seem to spend our lives apologising to each other. Well, did you not think them self-indulgent?

**Edith:** Not at all.

**Anthony:** I do.

**Edith:** Only because you see them from the back, as it were. From the front, to the reader, they are like…like butterflies: fragile, exquisite, and stronger than they look. They are haunting.

**Anthony:** Thank you, but you are too kind.

**Edith:** Can _I_ be self-indulgent, arrogant even, and ask if 'May 1914' is…

**Anthony:**…inspired by you? Yes, it was, I confess.

**Edith:** I think that's the most lovely and wonderful thing any man's ever said or done for me.

**Anthony (he colours at her words, but tries to keep a grip on himself):** How far through them did you get?

**Edith:** Up to that one.

**Anthony:** So you've not read the war poems?

**Edith:** No.

**Anthony (handing her the volume):** Perhaps you should. They are nowhere near as good as Sassoon, or the young chap, Owen, but they might explain a few things better than I could, face to face I mean.

**Edith:** I think we're getting too serious again, and far too soon. We need a bit of fun. May I drive your car? Papa won't let me near the Lagonda, and I'd love to drive a Rolls.

**Anthony:** Of course you can drive my car.

**Edith:** Where shall we go?

**Anthony:** I think I shall leave that to my driver.

* * *

_Minutes later they are speeding up the hills towards Grimwith and the Dales beyond. She parks the car to look at the view, and reaches into her pocket._

**Edith:** Would you like a toffee?

**Anthony:** Well…

**Edith:** The sugar might settle your tummy.

**Anthony:** I'll give it a try.

_They eat their toffees in quiet contentment._

**Anthony:** Edith? Would you mind if I had another toffee? I'd forgotten how much I liked them.

**Edith (handing him the entire bag):** Actually I brought them for you. I know lots of gentlemen who like toffee more than anything. I didn't know it could be medicinal as well!

**Anthony:** Oh Edith! You are so very good for me.

**Edith:** So I'm medicinal too?!

**Anthony:** Absolutely! I think I should ask Clarkson to prescribe you for me.

**Edith:** Three times a day?

**Anthony:** More.

**Edith:** I've also brought you one of Mrs Patmore's famous treacle tarts. I hope your cook won't mind.

**Anthony (laughing):** Mrs Rich is probably trying to analyse its secrets right now!

* * *

_After lunch, Edith and Anthony play Charades, just the two of them, giggling like children._

**Edith (thinking):** Everything is going well. I'm managing to keep the atmosphere light and unstressed. Anthony is gradually relaxing, and almost enjoying himself. I could do this, look after him, I really could, if only I were left alone with him, with no one else's interference.

_Almost as though she had tempted Fate, Oakley enters._

**Oakley:** Sir Anthony, Lord Grantham is on the telephone for you.

_Anthony gets up to go to the telephone, wearing the look of a man being brave._

**Edith:** Oh no you don't! Let me speak to him.

_Before Anthony can object she rushes out to the Hall and picks up the instrument._

**Edith:** Hello Papa.

**Robert:** Edith! Are you alright, Edith?

**Edith:** Yes Papa, quite alright. Why shouldn't I be?

**Robert:** Matthew told me what happened yesterday.

**Edith:** You mean, you demanded he tell you where I was when I wasn't at lunch?

**Robert (ignoring this):** I am so sorry you had to endure that, Edith. I feel for Sir Anthony, I really do, but he should not have put you in that position.

**Edith:** I think he was utterly miserable rather than truly suicidal, Papa. I don't think he would really have done it. But he's much better today. Doctor Clarkson thinks he should have company for a little while, and he's arranging something but someone had to be with Anthony today. Please don't be angry Papa.

**Robert:** I'm not angry, Edith. But I would be grateful to have a better talk with you, tomorrow perhaps?

**Edith:** Yes Papa. I'll be home after dinner when Doctor Clarkson relieves me.

**Robert:** Yes, yes, of course. Look after yourself as well as of him, won't you, Edith?

_Edith returns to the Library._

**Anthony (anxious):** He was angry, wasn't he?

**Edith:** Shockingly enough, no he wasn't. He told me to look after you. And who am I to disobey my father?

* * *

_While Anthony is dressing for dinner, Oakley draws Edith aside._

**Oakley:** I must thank you, my Lady, for being here today.

**Edith:** It's the least I could do for him, Oakley.

**Oakley:** Well, yes, there's that, but I want to thank you for myself. This afternoon I managed to get four hours' uninterrupted sleep. After the full night's sleep I got last night when Doctor Clarkson was here, I feel almost normal again!

**Edith:** Why didn't you tell someone he was this bad, Oakley?

**Oakley:** Who would I tell, my Lady? I couldn't tell you; his friends have made themselves scarce since what should have been your wedding; I didn't think it fair to worry his sister so far away in London…

**Edith (trying to keep back tears):** Oh Anthony, you've been so alone.

**Edith (aloud to Oakley):** Don't worry, Oakley. I'm sure Doctor Clarkson will know what to do for the best now that it's all out in the open. And if he doesn't, I am sure he'll know who to ask. I think you've been marvellous coping with all this by yourself.

**Oakley:** Thank you, Lady Edith.

* * *

_Anthony and Edith are sitting in his Drawing Room after dinner, she with a coffee, he with a brandy. Edith has been trying to keep all topics of conversation on the mild side, but as the time for her to leave approaches they are both becoming a little more maudlin and thoughtful._

**Edith:** If you could live your life anywhere in the world, at any time in history, or be anyone, what would you choose?

**Anthony (ponders for a moment):** It would be tempting to choose to be someone really talented, or powerful, and then do what you wanted with their situation. Perhaps I could be Charles I but less arrogant and secede to Cromwell's demands, so that we got a constitutional monarch early, without the bloodshed of the Civil Wars? Or Charles II but more economically frugal and prudent. Yes, I think I'll go for Charles II. Especially as _he_ died in bed. What about you?

**Edith:** I'd like to have been someone like Lady Castlemaine or Nell Gwynne.

**Anthony (raises his eyebrows):** You'd be the King's mistress?

**Edith:** Yes, but they were also women who seized some power for themselves in the only way they could at a time when most women, even noblewomen, had none. And if they managed it through their feminine charms, and doing something enjoyable, so much to the good!

**Anthony (with mock horror):** Well, Lady Edith! I'm shocked!

**Edith (with a smile):** No you're not. They do say that Charles II was very good to his mistresses.

**Anthony (grinning):** I must buy a full-bottomed wig and grow a pencil-line moustache immediately!

**Edith:** And get a toy spaniel.

**Anthony:** Not forgetting the toy spaniel.

**Edith (suddenly sitting up):** Actually, that might not be a bad idea.

**Anthony:** What? Becoming the King's mistress? I don't think Queen Mary would be too happy with that. I wouldn't be all that happy either.

**Edith:** No, idiot! Would you like a dog? They are good company, make you get out in the fresh air for walks and, if Isis is anything to go by, are totally dotty about their owners. What do you think?

**Anthony (thinking):** That description is just as applicable to you, complete with your brown puppy-dog eyes.

**Anthony (aloud):** I think I would need to think about it, but it sounds like a nice idea. As I don't shoot anymore the dog wouldn't have to be trained as a gundog, unlike Isis.

**Edith (noticing his reluctance):** A dog is a responsibility isn't it? We don't want to stress you too soon by getting you to care for something else when you should be concentrating on looking after yourself and getting better.

**Anthony (quietly):** A dog is not as much responsibility as a wife, and I recently almost acquired one of those.

**Edith:** Oh Anthony. I am so sorry, you know that.

**Anthony:** No, please. I didn't say that to make you feel guilty. Please can we make a pact, right now, not to blame ourselves or each other, or even apologise ever again for that day? I've grieved for it so much. But since yesterday I've known I can't bear you to blame yourself for it. So if the only way I can convince you it wasn't your fault is by finding a way to forgive myself, then so be it.

**Edith (realising that this is a healthy way forward and a good sign):** Agreed!

_They shake hands. Then unable to resist, Anthony raises her hand to his lips. Their awkward silence is broken by Oakley, announcing Clarkson's arrival._

**Clarkson:** Lady Edith, Sir Anthony, good evening. I hate to be the killjoy but I think it would be advisable for you to have a reasonably early night, Sir Anthony. And I know that Lady Edith is eagerly awaited back at Downton Abbey.

**Edith:** Really?

**Clarkson:** Lord Grantham has been on the telephone to me today, while I was trying to catch up on some sleep, I might add.

_Anthony and Edith exchange looks._

**Anthony:** It seems we can forgive each other, but earning others' forgiveness may take a little more time and effort.

_Anthony rings for Jones, his driver, to take Edith home, and Oakley quickly brings Edith her coat. Anthony and Edith walk out to the front of the house together._

**Anthony:** Edith, thank you for today. I'm not sure what I would have done without you.

**Edith:** Will you allow me to come again?

**Anthony:** My dear, if you want to, I would welcome your company.

**Edith:** What about tomorrow?

**Anthony:** I would like that very much, but you must be tired. Perhaps you could come over for lunch?

**Edith:** May I ask one last favour today? Call it a 'thank you'? I think I've earned that.

**Anthony:** Oh definitely.

**Edith (gently lifting her head up towards him):** You've never kissed me.

**Anthony (in a trance):** No. Would you like me to now?

**Edith:** Please.

_He leans down to her and softly presses his lips to hers. The kiss lengthens and deepens as the moments slip by, all the time being chaste and gentle. It is still immensely erotic because of all that is not being explicitly expressed, but is still so very obvious._

_They hear the car approaching and pull away from each other slowly, reluctantly. They look at each other in hushed ecstasy, both breathing as if they had been running. _

**Anthony (whispering, unable to tear his eyes away from hers):** Until tomorrow then. Goodnight.

**Edith (whispering too, momentarily placing her hand against his cheek):** Goodnight.

_Anthony kisses her hand next to his face, then helps her as she gets into the car. He watches it all the way down the drive until he can see it no longer, before returning back inside the house._

* * *

_Cora is waiting for Edith when she gets home._

**Cora:** You didn't tell us where you were going.

**Edith:** It was very early when I left; no one was up for me to tell.

**Cora:** You could have left a message.

**Edith:** Why? Exactly when did you realise I wasn't in the house? Lunch?

**Cora (ignoring this):** We were worried, dear.

**Edith:** I'm sorry Mama.

**Cora:** Your father would like a word with you tomorrow.

**Edith:** I know. Is Matthew still up?

**Cora:** He's playing billiards with Tom.

* * *

_Edith enters the Billiards Room. Matthew and Tom are in their shirtsleeves._

**Edith:** Hello Tom, hello Matthew. Sorry to interrupt your game.

**Matthew:** Not at all. I was being thrashed. As usual.

**Edith:** I just wanted to thank you both for what you did yesterday. I know it won't have been easy, and that there have been…consequences.

**Matthew:** If you mean Robert hauling me over the coals, please don't worry about it. He seems to like hauling me over coals for something, anything, and at least it wasn't about the estate this time. A change is as good as a rest, and all that.

**Tom:** How's Sir Anthony?

**Edith (blushing):** Anthony's much better, thank you.

**Tom (the penny dropping):** Lucky Anthony.

**Edith (blushing more):** What _do_ you mean?

**Tom:** Nothing. Nothing at all.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Today (the day this chapter was posted) is 11th November, Armistice Day, and in the UK, Remembrance Day. I wanted to post this chapter today.**_

_**According to Wikipedia "the total number of military and civilian casualties in World War I was over 37 million. There were over 16 million deaths and 20 million wounded."**_

_**Over 300 British and Commonwealth military personnel were shot at dawn by their own comrades for 'cowardice', which was, most likely, shellshock and extreme stress instead.**_

_They went with songs to the battle, they were young.  
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.  
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,  
They fell with their faces to the foe._

_They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:  
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.  
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,  
We will remember them._

—_**Laurence Binyon: For The Fallen**_

* * *

_Anthony slept much better, though whether because he was exhausted from the previous bad night, or tired but elated from the wonderful day he'd spent with Edith he couldn't tell and didn't care._

_After breakfast, Clarkson takes his leave._

**Clarkson:** I will telephone later on during the morning, but you will have Lady Edith with you from lunch and Oakley here anyway. I expect you to continue to make good progress, Sir Anthony.

**Anthony:** Thank you for your help, Doctor.

**Anthony (thinking):** Clarkson's happier. No doubt he's glad he got a better night's sleep, as did Oakley again and he's positively humming. As for me, well my muscles ache. Too much tension in them, I expect. But things feel better. And Edith is coming round again today. I'm giddy as a schoolboy. She, Tom, and Matthew – all of them in their different ways – have taken all my misgivings: age, injury, everything, and quietly but firmly dismissed them in a quite logical manner. It really is foolish to think that just because I'm older than Edith that we won't have very long together. It is stupid to ignore happiness simply for fear that it won't last. No one knows how long they've got, how long joy will endure, even the young, strong, and beautiful. Edith continues to tell me in her own delightful way how much happiness she gets from my company, and I will deny it to her no longer. And, oh God, do I love being with her!

_He settles down to the estate business he's been avoiding with a light heart. He is getting through it swimmingly when the telephone rings. It is Lord Grantham. Because of his understanding towards Edith yesterday, Anthony is not worried when he answers._

**Anthony:** Good morning, Lord Grantham.

**Robert:** Anthony, I have just ended a discussion with Edith. We both agree that it would be better for her prospects and her reputation if she were not to come to lunch with you today, or indeed, take any part in the care that you require at the present or may need in the future. I apologise on her behalf for any inconvenience we may have caused you. I hope you feel stronger soon. Goodbye Sir Anthony.

_Robert puts the telephone down without another word or waiting for Anthony to say anything._

**Anthony (thinking):** And that's it. All my hopes smashed. Again.

_It's such a blow, and so unexpected. He returns to the library in shock._

**Anthony (thinking):** Oh Edith. That feeling is there again, that hollowness in the centre of my chest. Yesterday I thought you had banished it forever. I don't want to live my life grieving for you. I should telephone Doctor Clarkson. I promised to but Matthew still has my revolver so I'm hardly a danger to myself. And in point of fact, I feel stronger than I did yesterday. Edith…I can't live without you, but you, it seems, are not allowed to live with me…She loves me; of that I am sure. As long as that is true all is not lost. So what would Edith do? She'd fight. And so, by God, will I! I'm not as brave as she is about tackling people head on, but perhaps I can find a way to manoeuvre Robert into listening to us. For God's sake, man, think!

_The telephone rings again. This time it's Clarkson._

**Clarkson:** Sir Anthony. I think we need to talk, urgently. I will be over as soon as I can.

* * *

_Clarkson is as good as his word and is there in twenty minutes._

**Anthony:** I'm glad to see you Clarkson. I started today so much more hopeful but…well to tell you the truth Lord Grantham has ordered Lady Edith to stay away from me, and I feel pretty grim about it.

**Clarkson:** That is not good, I agree. And I'm afraid I won't improve your mood. I requested your service record yesterday, Sir Anthony. It arrived in the middle of this morning's surgery so I've only got to read it just now.

**Anthony (looking at the clock):** I detect a coded message, Doctor. Would you like some lunch?

**Clarkson:** You know, you are very good at reading people's minds?

**Anthony:** I'm not sure that's a skill to be proud of!

**Clarkson:** You rightly guessed that I am starving, but I will only accept if you eat a little yourself.

**Anthony:** You have a deal.

**Clarkson:** But it's not going to distract me from discussing your record.

**Anthony:** Well, it was worth a try.

**Clarkson:** Sir Anthony, many men would be crowing from the rooftops if they had a record like yours.

**Anthony:** It wasn't that good.

**Clarkson (finally losing his patience at the man's modesty):** Good God, man! A DSO _and_ a VC? Most men get one or the other and only then posthumously! Why!? Why, when you are obviously one of the bravest men on the face of the earth, do you wilfully undermine your own confidence so? Your official record is full of Mentions in Despatches. It doesn't mention any failures at all.

**Anthony (quietly):** There were some, nevertheless.

**Clarkson:** Then tell me about them.

_Silence._

**Clarkson (sighing, knowing he's going to have to push a bit harder):** Please tell me why you dream of firing squads every night.

**Anthony (still quietly):** It isn't every night.

**Clarkson (thinking):** So, I am right to think that's important.

**Clarkson:** Very well, most nights. Please, tell me.

**Anthony:** If you promise not to tell Lady Edith.

**Clarkson:** Of course not, although I may advise you to tell her.

**Anthony:** It's not a pretty story: I don't think I should tell her.

**Clarkson:** Go on.

**Anthony:** It begins with the Second Battle of Ypres in 1915. We were dug into our positions for weeks, the barrages went on for days on end as each side tried to break the lines of the other. You know they used poison gas on us for the first time then? There were two men in the Company I commanded, two brothers named Jack and Paul Roberts. They were lovely boys, cheeky but brave, loyal to the Company, and fiercely protective of each other. If I'd had sons…Anyway, Jack was at most 19 with his head full of glory and _Pro Patria_. He'd convinced his little brother to join up as well even though he can't have been many months over 16. He would lie gamely about his age, and claim to be a late developer if anyone mentioned his shaving habits, because he didn't have any. Paul hero-worshipped Jack and would have followed him to hell and back. And he did. One day our trenches were hit square on. Jack died instantly, but Paul, who'd been standing right next to him, didn't have a scratch on him. But…but…

_Anthony begins to cry._

**Clarkson:** Take your time.

**Anthony (his voice broken by tears):** Paul was covered in his brother's blood and…and bits of him…and…oh, it was hellish. Poor Paul, he just ran. He wasn't running away from the Germans, he was running away from where his brother was spread all over the mud. But of course Regimental HQ didn't see it that way. They insisted he face a Court Martial and put me in charge as Paul's CO. The Prosecuting Counsel was a rat-faced captain who was a barrister in Civvy Street, who just did cases like this for the Regiment and who'd never been anywhere near the front line. The Defending Counsel was a captain in our Company called Chalmers who'd been under the barrage for as long as anyone. I think he was a little shell-shocked even then. He had no chance, and neither did Paul. I…I had to find him guilty, there was no choice on the evidence as presented. In desperation, I took it up with my CO. But he was another 'hang 'em, flog 'em' type. He said he would find another officer with more backbone to sentence Paul and threatened me with a Court Martial of my own if I didn't find Paul guilty and sentence him accordingly.

So, God forgive me, I did.

He was put in front of a firing squad at dawn the next morning. Cruelly, my CO chose Chalmers as the Presiding Officer. I spoke to Chalmers beforehand and arranged that I would stand with Paul and Chalmers would not give verbal orders to the squad, but would drop his hand. That way Paul, who would be blindfolded, wouldn't know what was going on until it was all over. So Paul was trussed up and blindfolded. I stood with him, and put my hand on his shoulder. I asked his forgiveness, but all he said was "Oh Sir!" Then I began reciting the Lord's Prayer with him. Chalmers dropped his hand just as we were finishing. Paul was pushed from under my hand by the shots and fell to the ground, convulsing. I looked at Chalmers, but he was stricken, shocked beyond action. I couldn't leave Paul suffering like that, so I drew my sidearm and shot him in the head.

The squad…well, one fainted, some were physically sick, several others were crying, or praying, or both. Some had said the Lord's Prayer with us. I called them to order and told them that they were not to blame. I was; the war was; but not them.

I wrote to Jack and Paul's mother lying through my teeth but at least Regimental HQ didn't interfere with that. She thinks that they died bravely and honourably, together.

_There is silence apart from Anthony's weeping._

**Clarkson:** Let me get this completely clear in my head. You willingly stood in front of a firing squad so that a young man, whom you believed was unjustifiably put there, should not have to face it alone?

**Anthony:** Yes. But there was no danger to me, Clarkson.

**Clarkson:** From a bunch of emotional soldiers, some blinded by tears, all armed and frightened silly?

_Silence again._

**Clarkson:** And you don't believe you're brave? What happened after that?

**Anthony:** Afterwards I cared less about myself, and practically nothing for authority. I did rash, foolish things but somehow survived.

**Clarkson (refers to the papers in front of him):** Things like this? "Held lines with only 16 men against a platoon of Germans, for 3 days—recommended for DSO." A year later: "Singlehandedly attacked a German machinegun nest that was decimating the Regiment, did not stop having been hit in the shoulder, took 8 Germans including 2 officers prisoner, marched them back to our lines, returned to take a wireless station so that our advantage could be pressed without the German line of command's knowledge—recommended for VC."

**Anthony:** It probably doesn't say there, but I sent a wireless message in German saying I was the Kaiser, that I'd been taken hostage by the English who were really rather lovely, were giving him tea, and that they, the Germans, should stop this madness, and surrender immediately. I think it stopped them in their tracks for a bit. It certainly helped stop them regrouping while they argued over it.

_Silence._

**Clarkson:** I assume you have not told anyone this tale since you came home?

**Anthony:** You assume correctly.

**Clarkson:** How do you feel now, having told someone?

**Anthony:** Strangely, I feel quite a bit better. Thank you Doctor.

**Clarkson:** You do know that you could not have saved that young man?

**Anthony (tapping his head):** Up here, yes. But I can't feel it.

**Clarkson:** You've had nightmares since then until today – over five years?

_Anthony nods._

**Clarkson:** Paul had to endure his hell for, what, two days, before he joined his brother? Which of you do you think was the more fortunate?

**Anthony:** I've not thought of it like that before.

**Clarkson (gently):** Do you believe Paul forgave you that day?

**Anthony:** How could he?! I sentenced him to death! Me!

**Clarkson:** No, the Army did. You were ordered to do so. If you had not, he still would have been condemned and executed, and possibly you too. And what would Lady Edith have done then?

**Anthony:** Got on with her life more smoothly and successfully than with me around to blight it.

**Clarkson:** NO! I've known her all her life, Sir Anthony. I can tell you she's been waiting for you since 1914, not in expectation but in hope. For what it's worth, I believe that Paul did forgive you. He understood what you tried to do for him, what you did do for him. Now all you have to do is forgive yourself. Go and see Travis if that would help.

**Anthony:** What, and confess to him that I'm not converting?

**Clarkson:** I'm sorry?

**Anthony:** Oh, nothing. Never mind.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: After the previous chapter's seriousness, things lighten up here and begin to fall into place for Anthony and Edith. Thank you for continuing to read. Please review. And before you tell me, yes, I know I'm becoming as far fetched, dramatic, and silly as Julian Fellowes himself. I just hope you find it passably entertaining.**_

* * *

_.**  
**_

**Edith (thinking):** I know Papa means well, but if he thinks that locking me in my room is going to make me think about things the way he does, then he has another thing coming. I can't believe that he actually asked me…_ordered_ me to swear _on a Bible_ that I wouldn't see or communicate with Anthony ever again. And the look on his face when I refused! I don't think I've ever been so scared of him. So here I am, locked in here like a naughty schoolgirl and only let out at mealtimes. Papa and Carson have the only keys, because no one else is to be trusted. Oh Anthony! Anthony! For the first time in my life I really don't know what to do. We can't just run away; I don't want to hurt Papa like that, no matter what he does to me. And I know you don't either. I'm just going to have to be brave, for both our sakes, and hope something turns up. Anthony my love…my sweet one…my own…

* * *

.

_Robert, Tom, and Edith are in the Breakfast Room next morning._

**Robert (to Edith):** How are you feeling today?

**Edith:** Do I look composed and civil, Papa, as a young woman should?

**Robert:** Yes, you do, Edith.

**Edith (her voice steady and polite):** Thank you. Then I can tell you that my heart is breaking, that I miss Anthony more every passing minute with a raw passion and an ungovernable grief. Tom, would you pass the marmalade, please?

**Robert (exasperated):** He's no good for you. I want better for my daughter than to be a widow within a decade.

**Edith:** Look at Tom, Papa. He and Sybil were young and healthy. Isn't Life unpredictable, and isn't that _so_ inconvenient of it, Papa?

**Robert (looks at Tom, who is keeping very quiet and staring at his toast):** That's not a subject I wish to discuss.

**Edith (beginning to enjoy ribbing her father):** Well done, Papa. If Life won't do your bidding, dismiss it. By the way, could the lock on my door be oiled? It squeaks when Carson comes to release me, but I don't think he can hear it. He's getting paranoid since I'm always standing waiting for him behind the door.

_Tom stifles a laugh, turning it into a cough. Carson gives both Tom and Edith a disapproving look, and then passes the post to Robert. Robert passes a letter to Tom, then opens his own._

_Tom reads:_

_**Dear Tom,**_

_** First of all, please don't let anyone see this letter or tell them the contents, especially Robert or Edith.**_

_** Robert has told me that he has spoken to Edith and, he says, persuaded her that it is in her best interests not to see me again. While you know my feelings on that subject, I do not believe this to be the full truth. Although Robert may honestly believe he has convinced Edith on this point, I know her better than that!**_

_** I haven't heard anything from her for several days. It would appear that either my letters are not reaching her, nor hers getting to me; or she has indeed had enough of me. Either way, it seems that I cannot communicate with her directly. May I trespass on your kindness again to let me know what is going on? Even if Edith never wants to see me again, I would prefer to know. Of course, you may prefer not to get involved and I will respect that.**_

_** Lastly, and most presumptuously, would you pass the enclosed note to Edith if you can do so without getting yourself or her into trouble? Again, if you feel you are not able to, please just destroy it.**_

_** Whatever you decide, I remain,  
Your friend,  
Anthony Strallan**_

_._

_Tom checks he's not being watched and passes the note to Edith, under the table with a warning look. She takes it and puts it in her pocket, nodding her thanks. After breakfast, Carson takes Edith back upstairs and locks her in her room without a word. Edith takes the note out and reads it with her heart in her mouth._

_**My dearest, darling Edith,**_

_** Your father has always made it plain that he considers me to be unworthy of you and an unsuitable suitor for your hand. You know that, for the longest time, I have agreed with him. He has come between us again, and I am determined that this shall be the last time. You have finally convinced me that I can make you happy, but I do not think I can in all honesty continue to see you if it is so implacably against your father's wishes. This will break my heart.  
**_

_** If you do still want to see me, please let Tom know this. I have asked him to inform me of your wishes one way or the other. And if you do want me, I will think of some way to reach you.**_

_** If, God forbid, that last, wonderful day, the best of my life, was the last I shall ever spend with you, please know that I would not give up a single moment of it, or any I have spent in your company, to save myself any heartache I must now suffer. If you do not wish to see me, I beg you, think no more of me. Do not blame your father for loving you and wanting only the best for you. It is also my fondest wish.**_

_** You have been the sweetest, most beautiful blessing of my life, and I can never thank you enough.**_

_** I love you. I will always love you.**_

_** Anthony**_

_._

_Holding the letter to her breast, she sobs._


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Okay, so it's official, I'm a drama queen. Nevertheless, please do review, whether you like the story or not. We all need feedback. And if I'm going to make the next ten stories I have in mind for Anthony and Edith ones you like, I have to know if you like this one or not! Just tell me gently, please, if you think it stinks! Thank you all for reading. It means the world to me.**_

* * *

_._

_Tom continues his breakfast, waiting for Matthew. Robert takes his post to the Library. Tom is on his second serving of toast and eggs when Matthew appears._

**Matthew:** Morning Tom. No Robert?

**Tom:** He's in the Library.

**Matthew:** How's the prisoner?

**Tom:** Bearing up. I'm really not happy about this.

**Matthew:** You're not happy?! I'm a solicitor: I know that this is false imprisonment and I should be going to the Police about it. Robert could get three years for what he's doing, Carson eighteen months for assisting him, and I could be struck off for standing by and doing nothing! I just didn't know it was going to drag out like this. I really thought Cora would have talked him out of it by now.

**Tom:** Then let's do something about it.

**Matthew:** What?

_Tom passes Matthew Anthony's letter which he reads._

**Matthew:** Poor beggar.

**Tom:** What do you think?

**Matthew:** Do you know what was in Edith's letter?

**Tom:** No. She's been taken back to the Tower by Jailor Carson…

**Matthew:** Let's start there. He might have told her a plan. I wonder if their letters are being intercepted. That's a criminal offence too…

_Carson arrives back and Matthew changes gear smoothly._

**Matthew:** …but that was one strange case I was involved in. Do you know, I thought I would miss law practice: all that arguing and intrigue, plotting behind people's backs, strange goings-on? Who would've thought I'd get that, and more, running a country estate?

_Without looking at them, Carson harrumphs._

* * *

_._

_Matthew and Tom are outside of Edith's room._

**Matthew:** You keep an eye out at the end of the corridor and down the stairs.

**Tom:** Right.

_Matthew gently knocks on Edith's door._

**Matthew (whispering):** Edith! It's me, Matthew! Can you hear me?

**Edith:** Matthew! It's lovely to hear you. It's kind of you to visit me in prison!

**Matthew (not wanting to mention Anthony's name, just in case):** Edith, the letter you received this morning? You know the one I mean?

**Edith:** Yes, yes, I do.

**Matthew:** Does _he_ have a plan? Are we meant to be doing something?

**Edith (tearfully):** Not really. He…seems to think I don't want him any more.

**Matthew:** That's what your father told him.

**Edith:** Oh Papa!

**Matthew:** He's asked Tom to tell him if you do want to see him again. I think I know the answer to this question, but do you?

**Edith:** Are you mad Matthew? Of course I do!

**Matthew:** Tom and I are going to go over there today. We have to be at one of the farms this morning, but we'll drop in on our way back, discuss what we're going to do, and we'll be back this afternoon and tell you then. Somehow.

**Edith:** Thank you Matthew. I'm so grateful.

**Matthew:** Oh, and Edith?! Have you written any letters to him?

**Edith:** Yes.

**Matthew:** How many?

**Edith:** Two a day…that's six, and one this morning. Seven in all. Why?

**Matthew:** He hasn't received any of them.

**Edith:** Oh!

**Matthew:** Chin up, old girl. See you this afternoon.

**Edith:** Tell him I love him.

**Matthew:** I will.

_Edith wipes her eyes, feeling more hopeful. She sits at her desk and begins to read Anthony's poems again for the umpteenth time. Presently she's disturbed by another knock at the door._

**Cora:** Edith!

**Edith (cautiously):** Yes, Mama.

**Cora:** Edith. I just want you to know that I'm nothing to do with this. Your father will not listen to sense.

**Edith:** What's new?

**Cora:** That is, he won't listen to me! But I am still trying, my darling.

**Edith:** Thank you, Mama. Why? Why does the thought of me and Anthony rile him so?

**Cora:** I haven't really fathomed that one yet, but I think it's something to do with the fact that Anthony got to serve and your father did not. It's his pride, dear.

**Edith:** That's understandable, but Papa doesn't treat, for instance, Bates as badly and Anthony.

**Cora:** That's because Bates is a valet. Sir Anthony is a gentleman.

**Edith:** Thank you, Mama.

**Cora:** For what?

**Edith:** For calling Anthony a gentleman.

**Cora (thinks):** I wish I could talk to you properly! **(Aloud, tenderly)** You really love him, don't you Edith?

**Edith:** Yes, Mama, I really do.

**Cora:** We'll get through this somehow, darling, I promise, even if we have to…

**Robert:**…have to what, Cora?

_Cora takes a sudden intake of breath, but recovers quickly._

**Cora:** Well, you can't lock her up for the rest of her life!

**Robert:** My intension is simply to keep her away from harm, for only as long as that danger is present. Isn't that what a good father does?

**Cora:** Sometimes, Robert, I wonder if you have any understanding of other people at all, or any inclination whatsoever to want to!

_She storms off._

* * *

_._

_Locksley, early afternoon._

**Anthony:** Tom! Matthew! I'm very glad to see you. Did you get my letter?

**Tom:** Yes, this morning. I'm afraid we don't bring great news.

**Anthony (thinking, as he goes pale):** Oh God, she doesn't want me.

**Matthew:** Edith has been locked in her room by Robert with Carson's help ever since she got back from spending that day with you. That is, what? Three, four days now.

**Tom:** She says she's written seven letters to you. I presume you've not receive them?

**Anthony:** No, no, I haven't. And she hasn't received mine either?

**Matthew:** No, I'm afraid not.

**Anthony ****(relieved)**: But you have no idea what a weight you've lifted from me. I thought…well, never mind what I thought. Robert can't seriously be thinking he can keep Edith locked up indefinitely like a mad aunt, can he?

**Matthew:** He seems like a man possessed. I'm worried about him, but more worried what might happen if this silliness continues. It is against the law, you know.

**Anthony:** Kidnapping?

**Matthew:** I think false imprisonment, but could be either.

_Silence while they think._

**Matthew (more quietly):** By the way, Anthony, the last thing Edith said to me before we left today was 'Tell him I love him'.

_Half a dozen emotions flood over Anthony's face as this registers: sorrow for her situation, relief, love, and finally, determination._

**Anthony:** Gentlemen, would you accompany me to Downton Abbey, if you'd be so kind?

* * *

.

_Half an hour later, Tom, Matthew, and Anthony are entering by the front door. Carson attempts to stop Anthony but then sees the medals on his chest. This stops him dead, and Anthony takes advantage of this to follow Tom and Matthew up the stairs to Edith's room._

**Matthew (loudly):** Edith! Edith!

**Edith:** Matthew! What's happening?

**Anthony:** Edith! Are you alright?

**Edith (overjoyed):** Oh, yes, Anthony, I am now you're here!

**Anthony (smiling at this):** Edith: Matthew, Tom, and I are going to break down the door. Get as far away from it as you can. Do you understand?

**Edith (thinks):** Oh heavens! He's come to rescue me! **(Aloud, loudly)** Yes sweetheart. I'm well away from it.

**Anthony (to Matthew and Tom, either side of him):** On three? One, two, three!

_They charge the door with their shoulders. It buckles but doesn't shift._

**Anthony:** Again! One, two, three!

_This time the door shifts slightly, and bits of paint fall off._

**Anthony:** Once more. One, two…

**Carson:** Allow me, Sir Anthony.

_The three would-be rescuers stare as Carson moves to the door with the key._

**Carson:** Did you think I wanted to do this? Loyalty is easy if you are only ever asked to do things you agree with, you know. And, anyway, I would prefer to unlock the door than have to arrange for a carpenter.

_He unlocks the door and opens it. Edith runs out and straight to Anthony, embracing him._

**Anthony (quietly, into her hair):** Oh, my love.

**Edith:** My darling.

**Robert:** How dare you, Sir!

_Edith and Anthony part, but he deliberately keeps hold of her hand much to her delight._

**Anthony:** Lord Grantham, I love your daughter, and despite your misgivings, and mine, she has been steadfast in her devotion to me. That is a gift so precious that I will refuse it no longer. I intend to ask her to marry me, and I shall do so properly this time, with no regrets at all. I know both she and I would prefer to wed with your blessing, but wed we shall, even if you withhold it.

_Robert approaches him, and doesn't appear to have listened to anything Anthony has said. Instead he is staring at the medals._

**Robert:** What the…!? It's disgusting. Wearing decorations to which you are not entitled! You come here, interfere in my family affairs, attempt to steal away my daughter; you are still too old for her, and crippled…your words, not mine. How can you pretend you'll be able to…

**Violet:** …able to what, Robert?

_She has been witnessing events for some time, but has not drawn attention to herself so no one has noticed her._

**Violet:** Oh, Anthony has lost the use of one arm, true, but he is still quite capable of, for instance, rescuing the woman he loves from, what did you call it, cousin Matthew, false imprisonment? And how did he become injured? Serving King and Country so bravely as to earn those trinkets he wears now, but never has worn before. I think he hoped it might impress you, poor modest, foolish man. Can he provide for Edith? Many times over. My sources tell me that, acre for acre, his income exceeds yours. He is older than we would all like, himself included I'm sure, but he can hardly do anything about that, and it isn't as if he's decrepit. I think he's got a good few innings left in him yet. Your daughter is quite capable of simple arithmetic and knows exactly what's what, I can assure you. And the most important question is: is he able to make her happy? And you know the answer to that already, Robert. When she got out of her room, who did she run to first? I know she's your last child, the last one still yours, and it is galling to find that one's children have grown up, and now love others more than oneself, Robert. But parents only really become adult themselves by acknowledging this and letting them go. Have you grown up, Robert?

_Robert stares at his mother for a few more seconds, then, with tears in his eyes, he goes over to Edith._

**Robert:** Can you forgive me, Edith?

**Edith (hugging him): **Oh Papa, of course. I do so love you, Papa. I love Anthony too, so very much, but I want to have him with your blessing.

**Robert:** You have it. You have it.

_Anthony closes his eyes in relief, then comes over to Robert and Edith. He offers his left hand to Robert. Robert, rather embarrassed, takes it in his left and shakes it. Tom slaps Anthony on the back, then hugs Edith. Violet is about to walk away, when Anthony catches her._

**Anthony:** Lady Grantham. _Much to her surprise, he takes her hand and kisses it._ Thank you.

**Violet:** Oh, you sweet, romantic dear.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: More fluff, as promised.**_

* * *

_._

_Cora and Mary have heard the noise and come running only to see Edith and Robert hugging, and Anthony kissing Violet's hand. Tom and Matthew are shaking hands with Carson, all three of them a bit sheepish._

**Mary:** Is it the end of the world, do you think?

_Cora goes over to Robert, who hugs her too ashamed to utter another word. Carson is soon by his side._

**Carson:** Should I take it that Sir Anthony will be staying for dinner, my Lord?

**Robert (to Anthony):** I hope you will allow me to…?

**Anthony:** I would be delighted.

**Carson (very pointedly):** And the _post_, my Lord?

**Robert:** Yes, give it to them.

**Carson:** Lady Edith, Sir Anthony, if you would follow me?

_In the Library, Carson opens a drawer in Robert's bureau and takes out a bundle of letters. He gives it to them._

**Carson:** Forgive me, my Lady.

**Edith:** There is nothing to forgive, Carson. I admire your loyalty. I'm sorry I made fun of you.

**Carson (with some pride):** In the Music Hall, my lady, it would not have been called that: I'm afraid your efforts would have been booed off the stage.

_He leaves, and Anthony and Edith giggle._

**Edith:** Shall we read them?

**Anthony (his voice broken by desire):** Not quite yet.

_He catches her round the waist and kisses her passionately._

**Anthony:** I meant what I said. _He drops to one knee._ Lady Edith, can you find it in your heart to forgive this silly old fool who walked away from you once before, who turned his back on all the heavenly bliss he's ever going to be offered in this life, but who has learned from you the error of his ways? Will you give me a second chance to try to make you happy? In other words, will you do me the ultimate honour of becoming my wife?

**Edith:** With all my heart, yes…

_He rises to kiss her, but before he does, she whispers._

**Edith:** …but this time, I promise you, we will take it as slowly as you want or need.

_With tears of love and gratitude in his eyes, he presses his lips to hers._

* * *

_._

_Dinner is being served._

**Mary (to Matthew):** If Papa had locked me up, would you have come to rescue me?

**Matthew:** Robert may have been mildly foolish in locking Edith in her room, but I don't think he would be as reckless of his safety as to try that with you, dearest.

**Tom (to Edith):** Have you begun to think about the wedding yet?

_Anthony and Edith reply at the same time._

**Anthony:** Yes! **Edith:** No!

_They look at each other._

**Anthony:** That's a no.

**Violet:** A fiancé changing his mind to suit his wife-to-be: that sounds like the beginning of a perfect marriage.

**Cora (to Anthony):** Sir Anthony, why have you never mentioned anything about your VC and DSO before?

**Anthony (genuinely bemused):** I didn't want to bore people, Lady Grantham.

**Mary:** You know, Sir Anthony, it really is only because of your modesty that people think there is nothing interesting about you.

**Edith (to Anthony, not too seriously):** I think, dearest, that was as near as Mary will ever get to an apology for calling you 'an old bore'. I'd accept it while the going is good!

**Robert:** My dear chap, I will admit that I was very hurt by the fact that the War Office accepted your offer to enlist for service, but not mine. It damaged my pride. When you returned hurt, I was made truly grateful I hadn't gone, and that was both relief and, in some ways, cowardice. I may have fixated on how your injury would affect the relationship between you and Edith to distract me from my own feelings. But discovering that your record was so glorious was really the last straw.

**Anthony (quietly):** 'Glorious' is not a word I would use about my experiences in France, Lord Grantham. _He notices that he has darkened the mood of the table, and regrets it. So, in a happier voice he says:_ Except for the time when I convinced the commanders of the German lines that we'd taken the Kaiser hostage, and were treating him to tea…That was mildly amusing.

* * *

.

_Later that evening, Edith is seeing him to his car._

**Anthony:** Do you remember standing here, like this, after that night when…what was his name…

**Edith:** …Larry Grey...when he put something in Tom's drink? Yes I do.

**Anthony (still not quite believing it):** That was the first time you kissed me.

**Edith:** I couldn't help it. You'd been so wonderful that evening. You were wonderful today.

**Anthony (blurting it out before he starts to think too much):** Kiss me again, like you did that night. I've dreamt of it so.

_She does._

**Edith:** Like that?

_He nods, smiling, and looking at her adoringly._

**Edith:** You look like you've had too much wine.

**Anthony:** It isn't that. I've had too much Edith.

**Edith:** Is that possible?

**Anthony (he whispers in her ear):** I am drunk with love.

**Edith (gasping):** Anthony!

_He kisses her, but because they are in front of her parents' house, it is slower, shorter, and gentler than they both would like._

**Edith:** When can I see you again?

**Anthony:** Oh, tomorrow morning, I hope…if you'll let me.

**Edith:** Oh yes! Shall I come to Locksley?

**Anthony:** Better not.

**Edith:** Why?

**Anthony (his voice husky):** Because…because without your family around to make me keep my head, I don't think I would be able to stop myself…

**Edith (delighted and shaken by the thought):** And I wouldn't want to…

_He looks at her as if he might give in to his overwhelming desires, but straightens himself, swallows hard, and controls himself._

**Anthony:** Goodnight, my dearest darling. May your dreams be more restful than I believe mine will be tonight!

**Edith:** Goodnight.

* * *

.

_Several days later. Anthony is sitting in the Library at Downton with a large box on his lap placed there by Edith._

**Edith:** Call it a wedding present – although you may receive more.

**Anthony:** You didn't have to get me _anything_, my love!

**Edith:** Please open it, Anthony, before it…

_The box moves._

**Anthony (quite worried):** Edith…it moved.

**Edith:** Don't worry; it won't bite you! At least I don't think so.

**Anthony:** _What_ is in here?

**Edith:** You'll have to open it to find out.

_He undoes the ribbon and lifts the lid gingerly. Seeing what is inside, his expression melts completely into an expression of utter delight._

**Anthony:** Oh Edith! She's gorgeous!

**Edith:** Do you like her? Really?

_He lifts out a small bundle of brown and white fur…an English Toy Spaniel puppy…which has no sooner seen Anthony than she begins to lick his nose._

**Anthony:** She's wonderful!

**Edith:** What shall we call her?

**Anthony:** Oh that's the most marvellous thing I've heard in weeks.

**Edith:** Sorry?

**Anthony (looking at Edith very intensely):** You said "What shall _we_ call her".

**Edith (smiling):** Oh…yes.

**Anthony:** How about Nell?

**Edith:** Nell?

**Anthony:** Nell Gwynne?

**Edith:** Oh, yes! Why not? You've not grown the pencil-line moustache yet, though, I notice.

**Anthony:** Do you think it would suit me?

**Edith:** No.

**Anthony:** Oh.

**Edith:** You can't improve on perfection.

**Anthony:** I am most certainly not perfect, my dear. I only wish I were for your sake.

**Edith:** What do you mean? You're handsome, gallant, charming, brave…

**Anthony:** ...nearly half a century old, crippled…

**Edith:** Oh not this again!

**Anthony:** I'm sorry Edith. I am trying very hard; believe me, I am.

**Edith:** Very trying.

**Anthony:** Touché.

**Edith: **Tell me, why did you wear your medals that day you came to rescue me?

**Anthony (awkwardly):** Do you promise not to laugh at me?

**Edith:** I never laugh _at_ you, my love, only ever _with_ you.

**Anthony:** It was something Clarkson had said. At that point he was the only one to know because he'd requested my service record.

**Edith:** What did he say?

**Anthony:** He said that he'd known you all your life and that, in his opinion, you'd been waiting for me since 1914, not in expectation but in hope. If you'd been waiting for me all that time, no doubt turning down offers from men far braver than me, well…I wanted to convince myself that I could be the man you were waiting for. I didn't doubt that _you_ thought I was; you'd persuaded me of that by then, but I still had to persuade myself.

**Edith:** And have you?

**Anthony:** Not entirely.

**Edith (quietly, seriously):** Do you want to postpone or…call off the wedding?

**Anthony (earnestly):** No! Absolutely not! I'm not doing that again. Putting us both through all that pain.

**Edith:** I'm glad of that.

**Anthony:** All I'm saying is that, well, sometimes I need reassurance.

**Edith (seductively):** Come here, and I will give you ample reassurance, if you'll let me.

**Anthony (weakly):** Oh Edith!

**Nell:** Woof!


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: I have to thank lots of authors, and specifically MyMadness, Spottedhorse, Loveedith, Eleanorc, and Ladyembth, for all the wonderful ideas of theirs that I have nicked–sorry–borrowed, and, hopefully, made my own rather than just plagiarised!**_

_Some people have asked (and others I just told without asking whether they wanted to know! Sorry Moonshinesally!) whether I based Anthony's war record on anyone in particular. I did. If you're interested, look in Wikipedia for Frederick William Lumsden VC, CB, DSO & Three Bars. At least I wasn't so indulgent as to give Anthony the DSO four times over as well as the VC. No one would have believed me. Truth is, indeed, stranger and braver than fiction._

* * *

_._

_A few weeks after rescuing Edith from captivity and proposing to her, Anthony invites all the Crawleys to dinner at Locksley._

**Tom (finishing the main course):** I'm not saying anything against Mrs Patmore, but that was remarkably good roast beef.

**Robert:** Indeed it was.

**Anthony:** I will tell Mrs Rich that you enjoyed it. I believe she has made one of Mrs Patmore's specialities for dessert.

_There is a worried silence among the Crawleys. Surely mild-mannered Sir Anthony Strallan wouldn't get revenge for the raspberries with salt, would he?_

**Anthony (totally innocently, looking worried):** What's the matter? Don't you like Mrs Patmore's Treacle Tart?

_Everyone heaves a sigh of relief. Anthony winks at Edith who smiles, but no one else sees it._

* * *

_._

_The men stay at table for port and cigars, while the ladies leave._

**Edith:** May I take the ladies to the Library, Anthony?

**Anthony:** Of course, dear. Anywhere you wish. Just let us know where to find you.

_Edith takes Violet, Cora, Mary, and Isobel to the Library._

**Mary:** So this is your love-nest?

**Cora (warningly):** Mary!

**Violet:** I can't think of any room less likely to be featured in the gossip magazines.

**Edith (answering their unspoken question):** Well, that's a mercy! Mostly we just talk, read, drink tea, and play with Nell. It isn't at all exciting.

**Isobel:** Unless the person you are with happens to be the man you are in love with.

**Edith (going over to pet Nell):** What I mean is, we don't _do_ anything exciting.

**Violet:** I don't know whether to be glad you are keeping up standards, or disappointed that you're not getting any…

**Edith (shocked):** Granny!

**Violet (looking severely at Edith):** …I was going to say 'getting any fun out of your deliberately long engagement'.

**Edith:** Oh but I am, I assure you.

**Mary:** Just not in here.

**Edith:** Mary!

**Cora (trying to steer the conversation to something less dangerous):** Has Nell made herself at home?

**Edith:** Very much so. She's a darling. She's totally besotted with Anthony. I think he gives her titbits.

**Mary:** Not at all like you then. Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean it like that.

_._

_Meanwhile, back in the Dining Room._

**Matthew:** You are looking a lot better, Anthony. Healthier.

**Anthony:** Thank you, Matthew. I've got my appetite back a bit. And I'm sleeping a lot better.

**Tom:** Thanks to Clarkson?

**Anthony:** Thanks to Edith, really. To be with her again is the very best medicine.

**Robert:** Have you and Edith had any more thoughts about when you might like the wedding to be?

**Anthony:** Possibly in the spring. I am a little worried about the guest list though.

**Tom:** Why?

**Anthony:** Do we invite the same people as last time and let them tittle-tattle, or some different friends, or what? I don't want to expose Edith to more gossip than I have already. That's one reason for the longer than usual engagement, actually: to let people have time to get used to the fact that we are reunited.

**Robert:** Why do you have to have a big wedding at all, if you would prefer a smaller affair?

**Anthony (looking at him gratefully):** You really wouldn't mind?

**Robert:** Not at all. It would spare Mrs Patmore's nerves, as well as mine!

**Anthony:** And mine. Thank you. It would certainly mean more to me to have a smaller ceremony with close friends and relatives; much more. I will ask Edith what she thinks.

* * *

_._

_Several months pass. It is late in the evening after dinner in the Library at Locksley._

**Anthony:** Tomorrow, I wondered if you would like to look at some of the upstairs rooms, to see how you would like them arranged.

**Edith:** You mean, would I like to share your bed, or do I want my own room?

**Anthony (taken aback):** Well…I…that is to say…

**Edith:** I like to think that I speak 'Anthony' better than I did. That is what you meant, isn't it?

**Anthony:** Yes, I suppose it was.

**Edith:** And the answer is, I would like both. You're not going to get rid of me that easily!

**Anthony (surprised and delighted):** Really?

**Edith:** Really, really.

_Anthony takes a long deep breath as he tries, and fails, to stop himself thinking of her in his bed._

**Anthony:** There is one complicating factor.

**Edith:** Mmm? And what is that?

**Anthony:** I already share my bed with one female.

_Edith pales and she feels cold._

**Edith (very quietly):** Anthony…?

**Anthony:** I think Nell thinks she's my wife. I'm not sure what she will think of another woman trying to take me over.

**Edith:** Oh!

_She hits him playfully._

**Anthony:** Ow!

**Edith:** You really allow Nell to sleep on your bed?

**Anthony:** Yes. Is that so bad? She was a very great help when…

**Edith:** …when you weren't sleeping?

**Anthony:** …yes. She was a loving distraction. And you gave her to me: she reminded me of you. She stood for everything I would lose if I…if I wanted to end it all.

**Edith:** Do you still feel like that, sometimes?

**Anthony:** No, darling, thanks to you, but the occasional nightmare still hurts.

**Edith:** About the war?

_He nods._

**Edith:** You never have told me about what haunts you.

**Anthony:** I don't think now is really the time.

**Edith:** You always say that. But we are here, cosy by ourselves. If not now, when? Let's just assume there's never going to be a good time, and go ahead, if you want to.

**Anthony:** Very well, but I want you to stop me if you can't stand it…it's not a nice story.

**Edith (looking him in the eyes):** You lived it. I only have to listen to it. It is a part of you, and I love you.

**Anthony (almost whispering):** I am so very afraid that you won't when you've heard what I did.

**Edith:** Then it is best I hear now rather than after you've married me.

**Anthony:** You're right.

_He tells her the story of Jack and Paul Roberts, exactly as he had told Clarkson. By the end they are both affected. Tears have been shed._

**Edith:** I agree with Doctor Clarkson. You did all you could, and I think, if he could think straight at all, that poor boy would have realised it and forgiven you. He was just so frightened at the last that he couldn't find the words.

**Anthony (hugging her):** Oh Edith! I really didn't know how you would react. You have no idea how much I've hated myself for what I did. He was so young. Why did he have to die, and by my hand? Why couldn't he have found his way back home? Why couldn't it have been me? Why did that bullet find my shoulder and not my heart, or my head?

**Edith (holding him very close):** So that you could come home to me, my darling. So I could love you.

* * *

_._

_The night before the wedding, Anthony has dined at Downton and is taking his leave of Edith in the Hall._

**Anthony:** I love doing this.

**Edith (frowning):** What, saying goodbye?

**Anthony (leans to her and whispers):** Saying goodbye in a clichéd, romantic manner, with you convincing me that I'm some young, handsome hero, desperately in love with you.

**Edith:** But you are!

**Anthony:** I hate to disappoint you, my dear, but I'm neither young nor handsome.

**Edith:** You're not as young as you were, but you're not old, and I maintain you are the most handsome man I've ever met.

_He kisses her, and, as it is the night before their wedding, allows himself to kiss her more passionately than he might have otherwise. They are both breathless when the kiss breaks._

**Anthony:** My darling, I want you to know, that whatever happens tomorrow…

**Edith:** Whatever happens? _She blanches._ What do you mean?

**Anthony:** No, no, no. I don't mean that. I _will_ marry you tomorrow. I _will_ be there, and I _will stay_ there until we are well and truly married. No, what I meant was whatever happens tomorrow night…I do love you, and desire you. But…well, my age may hinder things…

_She realises he is scared, not of her or the wedding, but of failure tomorrow night._

**Edith:** Anthony, my love, you are the kindest, sweetest, most wonderful man I've ever met. But those are only three of the many reasons I want to be your wife. You are also the most handsome and desirable male I could imagine. I love you, but I also desire you too._ Very quickly and lightly she lets her hand brush his most private parts and is gratified to feel him react to the touch._

**Anthony:** Oh God, Edith!

**Edith (triumphantly):** I thought so! You see, there is nothing to be afraid of.

**Anthony:** I'm not only marrying a mind reader, but a seductress as well. _He sighs._ I am afraid of disappointing you in a way you don't countenance. You are afraid that I might wreck your life again, in a way that I did once before, but would rather die than repeat. What a pair we are!

_He gazes into her eyes, deciding to ask a question he'd been considering._

Edith, may I ask you to do something for me?

**Edith:** Anything, my love.

_He takes his medals in their cases from his pocket._

**Anthony:** I would like you to look after these for me, and bring them to Locksley tomorrow evening, when you come.

_She knows it is his way of saying that he is going to keep his word, that he won't jilt her again. She is immensely touched._

**Edith:** Aren't you going to wear them tomorrow?

**Anthony:** Oh, I think that would be rather silly, don't you? I'll be in morning dress, not dress uniform.

**Edith:** I would have like it, but I will let you be modest if you want to be. It is your wedding day as well, after all.

**Anthony:** I will see you in Downton Church tomorrow at one. Don't be late.

**Edith:** Till tomorrow.

_He kisses her, softly, gently, and long, and then with one more crooked smile, he leaves._


	11. Chapter 11

_._

_Clarke's Prince of Denmark's March begins to play on Downton Church organ. Anthony gently kisses the new Lady Strallan, then she takes his right elbow behind the sling. They walk down the nave together smiling at the small gathering of friends, family, and staff they handpicked together to share their special day._

_The wedding breakfast at Downton is suitably quiet but there is a joy to the proceedings that Edith and Anthony feel would not be there with a grander affair. Later, Mary comes up to Edith with a small bag. She has been Edith's maid-of-honour._

**Mary:** You can't go without these, Edith.

**Edith:** Thank you, Mary. _Quite spontaneously, she kisses her._ Is Jones ready?

**Matthew (joining them with the rest of the family):** I believe so. **(To Anthony, under his breath):** _Courage, mon brave_. I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think…!

**Anthony:** Thank you Matthew, for everything: for talking me out of putting a bullet in my head that day; for being my Best Man; for being my friend.

**Matthew (putting his hand on Anthony's shoulder):** Don't mention it. Send us a postcard from Verona.

**Robert (shaking hands with Anthony):** Welcome to the family, Anthony. I believe this is the first time we've had a marriage between the Strallans and the Crawleys, isn't it?

**Edith:** Papa, I'm afraid we'll have to leave researching the family tree to you. I'm taking Anthony home before it gets too late.

**Cora:** Goodnight, my darling. Don't be gone too long.

**Edith:** Thank you, Mama.

_Then, so very quickly, all the goodbyes are over and Anthony and Edith are sitting in the back of his Rolls-Royce, on their way home to Locksley._

**Edith:** Hello husband.

**Anthony:** Hello wife. What's in the bag?

**Edith:** I hope it's a DSO and a VC. Would you like them back?

**Anthony:** Heavens! I'd forgotten about those. Thank you. Did they reassure you?

**Edith:** Yes, they did. It was very sweet of you to lend them to me.

**Anthony:** Like any good knight in shining armour, I lay the heads of the dragons I have slain at my lady's feet.

**Edith:** I can't thank you enough for today…for trying again and going through with it this time.

**Anthony:** It felt a bit queer to begin with. Ghosts…

**Edith:** But once we got past 'Dearly beloved'…

**Anthony: **…it got a lot easier.

**Edith:** I felt the same.

**Anthony:** Worth remembering this time?

**Edith:** Definitely.

**Anthony (quietly in her ear):** It isn't over yet.

* * *

_._

_They are entering Anthony's bedroom, later._

**Edith:** This is the one room in Locksley I have never entered.

**Anthony:** You could have done so, if you had wished.

**Edith:** I wanted to preserve the mystique.

**Anthony:** Not much mystery, I'm afraid, just tweed and shaving cream.

**Edith:** You know very little about women and what intrigues them, you know that?

**Anthony:** I have _always_ known very little about women, and what I once knew I fear I have forgotten.

**Edith:** I don't actually believe that. You kiss like a man who knows what he's doing.

**Anthony:** Really? You really like the way I kiss you?

**Edith:** You kiss extremely nicely.

_He looks at her unbelievingly._

**Edith:** Anthony, you send electric shocks down my spine and make me feel giddy with joy and…desire.

**Anthony (swallowing hard, thinking):** Dear God, this is where it begins. At last. I've waited so long for this. **(Aloud):** When you kiss my neck, it makes me go weak.

**Edith (quieter):** Where? Just there?

_She places a gentle finger on the angle of his neck just under his cravat. Unable to speak, he nods. She kisses it, lightly but thoroughly._

**Anthony (closing his eyes, he breathes the word):** Oh…

**Edith:** It would be easier to do this, if I might remove your cravat and collar.

**Anthony:** Please do.

**Edith (thinking):** His neck is suddenly so white below the neckline where he wears ties all the time. His skin is so firm and yet so smooth. I love the feel of his muscles under my fingers.

**Anthony (losing control of his voice):** Lower…please, lower.

_Edith lets her hand slide further down his neck to his collar bone followed by her kisses. She begins to undo the buttons of his waistcoat._

**Edith:** Let me please you.

_He catches her fingers and kisses them._

**Anthony:** Only if you'll let me please you too.

**Edith:** Anthony…tell me how. I don't know how. Not really.

_He looks her in the eye, holding her hand to his chest._

**Anthony:** We have the rest of our lives to learn how to please each other. Tonight…

_He runs his hand over her cheek and down over her shoulder._

**Anthony:** …tonight, I just want to be close to you. Anything else is a bonus. Neither of us needs the extra pressure to be…athletic.

**Edith:** Once again, we are perfectly suited.

**Anthony:** Now, where were we? I believe you were helping me undress…

_She reaches for his sling._

**Edith:** May I?

**Anthony:** Yes, but…sorry, it helps if you hold the arm while you do it; take the weight while you lift the sling over my head, like that. I can't hold it up, you see?

_She can see that this embarrasses him. She takes his advice, but once the arm is free, she lifts the hand to her lips to kiss it. Immediately, she feels him relax again._

**Edith:** Now the tails and waistcoat I think I can manage without the tutorial.

_Despite her confident assertion, when she begins to unbutton his shirt, she feels as though she has strayed into foreign territory without speaking the language. She catches glimpses of his chest underneath, smooth and well defined. She is both attracted to touch him, and frightened to do so. Her actions slow, and Anthony automatically assumes she is disgusted at what she sees._

**Anthony:** Darling…if you don't want to see…

**Edith (realising what he means):** You think I don't want to see your scars. _She shakes her head._ It wasn't that at all. I wasn't looking at your scars; I can't see them yet. I've just never seen a man without his shirt before. You are…magnificent, but I'm nervous.

**Anthony (reassured by her words):** Oh, my sweetest, loveliest Edith.

**Edith:** Would you prefer it if I were not to see your scars tonight?

**Anthony:** That is kind of you to offer, but I think I would prefer to be totally open and honest with you, my love.

_She slides the shirt over his shoulders, the left one muscular, the right one withered and criss-crossed with surgical scars and one large, ragged scar in the centre where he was pierced by the bullet. She skims her hand over it and despite his instinctively starting back, she can feel that the bones are not all there as they should be. Carefully placing kisses over it, she says_

**Edith:** My darling. My poor darling. What you must have suffered. Does it…is there anywhere I shouldn't touch you? I don't want to hurt you.

**Anthony:** Don't worry. There's not much feeling there at all now. But…oh Edith…the way you touch it…

**Edith:** I love you. All of you.

**Anthony:** Oh dear God, Edith! I adore you!

_He catches her and kisses her with a raw, unbridled passion for the first time in his life. She is utterly overwhelmed, wrapping her arms about him._

**Edith:** I think I've done enough for now. It's your turn.

_Now it is Anthony who feels nervous. Timidly, he slips her dress off one shoulder, followed by the other. The dress is silk and slips easily down over her body to the floor. Anthony is speechless. All he can do is let his eyes drink her in, worshipping her body, but also absolutely adoring her._

**Anthony:** Oh sweet heavens! What did I ever do to deserve you?!

**Edith (reaching up for another kiss):** You took me out for a ride in your Rolls-Royce.

**Anthony:** My own words fail me.

_._

_Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy,  
Until I labour, I in labour lie._

_._

**Edith:** If you are going to quote Donne I will not be able to resist you for long.

**Anthony (between kisses):** In that case:

_._

_Licence my roving hands, and let them go,  
Before, behind, between, above, below.  
O my America! my new-found-land,  
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man man'd,  
My mine of precious stones: My Emperie,  
How blest am I in this discovering thee!  
To enter in these bonds, is to be free;  
Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be._

_._

_With Anthony placing his hand between her breasts over her heart, with a gesture of both adoration and possession, they both lose themselves in their passion and each other, letting all sense of time or place slip past them. Thoughts become wordless, actions are urgent and zealous. Kisses are frantic for them both. Anthony feels that he might drown in his love for her. Edith knows that heaven holds nothing better than this, to have him in her arms, to be able to inspire such ardour in the one man in the world she could love like this. They claim the highest height of love, and lie as conquerors, entwined, until the dawn breaks on their new life, together._

* * *

_._

_**Thank you for reading to the end. Reviews are, as always, extremely welcome. I struggled with this story, far more than my previous efforts. If anyone wants to nominate me for the Bad Sex Award, I'll take it like a man.**_


End file.
